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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29943231">Sergeant</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mottlemoth/pseuds/Mottlemoth'>Mottlemoth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cruising, Ficlet, Flirting, M/M, Mycroft Holmes Says Fuck The Police, Mycroft Holmes is a Sex Kitten, Sergeant Lestrade, Soho, Thousand Island Holmes, Young Mycroft Holmes/Young Greg Lestrade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:49:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,083</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29943231</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mottlemoth/pseuds/Mottlemoth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>While keeping an eye out for public indecency in Soho, DS Greg Lestrade makes the acquaintance of a very well-spoken and red-haired young man.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>231</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sergeant</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sometimes I like writing Mycroft virginal. Sometimes I like writing him like this. &gt;D</p><p>I don't allow translations. Give me a shout if you ever find this posted somewhere other than AO3. (I hate adding these notes to my fics, but I've had things stolen way too many times. Thanks for understanding.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Not at all, sergeant," the young man purrs, leaning back against the bumper of Greg's unmarked police car. "I commend you for your devotion to your duties, even if you've spoiled my fun. I suppose the forces of law and order must prevail."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His expensive white dress shirt is half-unbuttoned, its collar still flipped up at one corner. The coppery curls of his hair are all ruffled out of order, even though some time has now passed since thick fingers were scrunching through it. He looks as debauched and unapologetic as he did in the moment Greg first laid eyes on him, kneeling in an alley at the feet of a much older man. Such scenes are fairly common in Soho at night; it's rare for the perpetrators to be as posh as this one, though. This redhead sounds like he could give elocution lessons to the queen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg dealt with the other guy first, suspecting he'd be the easier of the two. The man took his verbal warning and shuffled off into the darkness a few minutes ago, mortified and promising he'll be more careful in future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now it's Red's turn, and he really isn't looking very sorry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you understand that you could get in serious trouble for this?" Greg asks, raising an eyebrow at him. "A member of the public could've come across the two of you. It's public indecency. If I went by the book, I wouldn't bother just talking to you about it. I'd drive you to the station, get something put on your record, and in some cases you could wind up with a prison sentence. Do you want that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red huffs, delighted by Greg's authoritative tone. He folds his arms across his chest, leaning further back against Greg's car, and casts his gaze up at the only witness to this exchange—the street light overlooking this quiet, private corner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sergeant," he murmurs. "I'm certain that to an ordinary miscreant, your usual routine would seem deliciously intimidating. But let's not play games here. We both know there's no chance whatsoever of you arresting me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg's eyebrow pops up higher. "Oh? Why not, exactly?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because we both know that fun is hard to come by," Red says. His voice is smooth as he regards Greg with those intelligent, icy grey eyes. "Especially for men like us."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small lurch unsettles Greg's pulse. He keeps the feeling off his face, reminding himself that he's a sergeant now. He's not going to be intimidated by felons. Maybe Constable Lestrade would have backed down from this guy, but Greg is going places now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look," he says, hardening his voice. "I don't know what it is you're implying—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No. But whatever it is—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then let me stop implying," Red intervenes, lifting his chin. "I'll asseverate instead. You're well aware that living with homosexual urges isn't easy and that good company is hard to come by. I imagine you volunteered for this patrol not to clamp down on public indecency but to protect the men you increasingly view as your own kind. I know one of my own on first sight, sergeant. You won't be turning me in."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg stiffens, saying nothing. He doesn't know what gave him away, what tiny clues have marked him out to this stranger, but he doesn't appreciate being laid bare like this. He's been taking care of this corner of London for weeks now, trying to do some good for people who aren't causing any harm. His jaw locks as his anger starts to rise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he can speak, Red eases forwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Forgive me," he says, steps gently into Greg's body and lays a hand upon his chest. "I don't mean to antagonise you. What you're doing is commendable, sergeant. Truly."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg holds his silence, wary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red draws a confessional breath. "I had a very tiresome week," he says. "Being interrupted in the middle of my stress relief has left me… kittenish. I apologise for my manner."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg tries to lift his gaze from the long, elegant fingertips now resting on his chest, but finds that he can't. His heart bangs up against them, as quick and dizzy as a dragonfly. All the words have vanished from his brain. As he finally tears his eyes away, glancing up into Red's face, it earns him a small and coaxing smile which he'll be daydreaming about even twenty years later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Perhaps the best thing to do is remove me from the streets for the night," Red says, leaning close. He brushes his mouth against Greg's jaw as he speaks, spilling shivers down Greg's spine. "Detain me, sergeant. Take me somewhere you can ensure I'll pose no more threat to public decency. I'll behave myself beautifully in your custody. I promise."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Christ.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Greg inhales, scrabbling wildly for a reason to say no. This could be seen as an attempt to bribe a police officer, offering him sex in exchange for leniency—but then, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to release the guy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Red is right that good company is hard to come by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're just going to swap him for me, huh?" Greg says, his voice dipping low in his chest. He takes care not to breathe, not to take in any more of Red's soft, expensive fragrance than he has to. "I chased off your first choice, so now I'll have to do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red eases an arm very slowly around Greg's waist, splaying his hand at the small of Greg's back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're far prettier," he whispers in Greg's ear. "An improvement in every possible way, I assure you. Don't fool yourself that you're a replacement. You're definitely an upgrade."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Red's lips brush his earlobe, stroking very gently, Greg closes his eyes with a shiver. He's not had anyone touch him in months, and it's been years since someone seemed so eager for the chance—someone his own age, too—someone posh, pretty. Someone who wants to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>kittenish.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't have to do this," he says, swallowing to try and strengthen his voice. "I'm not arresting you. I'll let you go. You don't have to..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Very kind," Red murmurs, his voice whisper-soft. "Thank you for releasing me. Now you're speaking to an ordinary civilian, not a suspect, can I interest you in a night of very playful sex?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, Jesus."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mm, I thought so. Now, sergeant. It's cold out here and my thoughts are straying in immoral directions. Let's be having me. I'll come without a fuss."</span>
</p><p> </p>
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